


Until Spring

by ImGayandTired20



Category: (Minor) Le Petit Prince | The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Human, Amnesia, Eggshells, M/M, Moomintroll is sad, Snufkin is observant but he doesnʻt understand, This Is Not A Nice Thing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, World War II, writing letters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 16:33:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 10,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19299529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImGayandTired20/pseuds/ImGayandTired20
Summary: I asked if they knew anyone who I could write to that meant a lot to me before I lost my memory, and they told me to write to you. Moomin. I canʻt remember you now, but your name already gives me comfort in this strange, foreign place. I hope that if I return home soon, Iʻll return to you.Farewell for now,Snufkin~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~This AU belongs to @reys_humble_habod on Instagram!I understand that WWII can be a sensitive topic for others, but this story - nor the AU - is meant to belittle or misinterpret the events of the war in any way.





	1. Letter 1: September, 1944

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing except for my OCs (kind of). 
> 
> Also, these chapters are written as letters, so have fun with that! I thought it was an interesting way to tell a story through perspective.

September, 1944

_ Dear Moomin,  _

 

_ Hello! My name is Snufkin, though I suppose you already know that...The reason Iʻm writing this is because of Alicia and Alvia. They told me writing letters to someone or something important to me will help me regain my memories, or will at least help me find some stability with everything thatʻs been going on…  _

 

_ As you may know, we are at war. Iʻm not sure how long Iʻve been fighting, or if Iʻll be fighting any longer. Iʻve recently been caught in a bad one, it seems, and a couple of days ago I woke up in a hospital with no clue who I am. I still donʻt know who I am, really. Alicia said she grew up with me, and Alvia told me that I was part of the military sent to Europe (which is where I assume I am at the moment), but theyʻre both busy with the war to really talk to me.  _

 

_ They did try to help me with my amnesia though, and told me it was best to write down my thoughts in letters. This was originally going to be to a journal, but if Iʻm being honest, the idea of writing to a journal sounds childish, and Iʻd be too embarrassed to ever read or write a word in this book. I asked if they knew anyone who I could write to that meant a lot to me before I lost my memory, and they told me to write to you. Moomin. I canʻt remember you now, but your name already gives me comfort in this strange, foreign place. I hope that if I return home soon, Iʻll return to you.  _

 

_ Farewell for now, _

_ Snufkin  _

 

 


	2. Letter 2: September, 1944

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snuf & Jox >:3

September, 1944

_ Dear Moomin,  _

 

_ Some peculiar things happened today. Iʻve been awake for a week or so now, almost two, when the curtain separating me from the others screeched open to reveal an injured older man with stark black hair and these beady blue eyes. I was concerned that the man was still trying to move despite his pain, so I called out and asked if he was alright.  _

 

_ When he looked up at me, the strain and anguish in his eyes froze me; I realized at that moment that he looked quite similar to me.  _

 

_ He didnʻt say or do much for a while, just walked up to my bed and sat down, staring at me. I started to feel uncomfortable until he started crying, to which I began to panic. What was I to do, a young man with amnesia with an older man bawling on my bedside? I only thought to gently pat his shoulder while he fell over, upper body splayed across my bed sheets. _

 

_ I canʻt remember what happened much after he stopped crying, we just sort of talked. I asked him what was going on out on the field, and he told me the same as always: people were dying, some wounded, but we were making progress. From the looks of it, weʻre going to win the war.  _

_ Then he asked me how my time was in the hospital, and I couldnʻt tell if that was a rhetorical question or not. We laughed anyways; it was nice.  _

 

_ In the end, he told me his name was Joxter, and he promised to visit again as soon as he could, this time with Muddle and Hodgkins...Iʻm not certain who those are, but Iʻm sure Iʻll find out soon. None of my memories have resurfaced, and other than this and the usual wounded soldiers, nothing has happened.  _

 

_ I wish I could meet you again soon; maybe youʻd help me regain my memories.  _

 

_ Farewell for now, _

_ Snufkin  _


	3. Letter 3: November, 1944

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin gets some information and tells the truth :0

November, 1944

_Dear Moomin,_

 

_Iʻm twenty-one years old. I am currently in a COMZ in England, but will be released soon to go back and join the fight in a few days. I was in a coma for a month, and was almost moved to a more permanent hospital before I woke up with amnesia. I do not know what happened to me, and I do not think anyone will be telling me anytime soon._

 

_My name is Snufkin Wirtanen, and my father is Joxter. We are both Finnish-Americans fighting in the war against Germany. With him I fight alongside his friends Hodgkins and Muddler, and alongside us, my friend Alvia fights with the French military forces (they recently freed France from Germanyʻs reign some time ago)._

 

_In the COMZ, Alicia tends to me and provides me food and water when she can. She tells me that my previous wounds are getting better rather quickly, and to be careful when I go back out there. To be frank, Iʻm a bit nervous to leave. The other men who Iʻve seen inside the COMZ have not always been so lucky, and the wounds Iʻve seen are not promising. I know that I technically have no choice, but I was hoping that I would be discharged and sent home. Maybe this war will end soon, and when it does Iʻll be able to return then._

 

_I wonder what youʻre doing right now, Moomin. Do you know whatʻs going on out here? Do you think of me when you think of the war, and wonder if Iʻm alright? No one has yet to tell me more about you, but I imagine you as the kindest and greatest person I know. Iʻll be home soon, maybe in the spring._

 

_Farewell for now,_

_Snufkin_

 

_ P.S. It occurred to me that I donʻt remember where home is.  _


	4. Letter 4: August, 1945

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkinʻs excited that itʻs over :D

September, 1945

_ Dear Moomin, _

 

_ Weʻve done it! Weʻve won the war! I can not express through words how relieved I am! _

 

_ Right now the group is out celebrating; Iʻm wedged between a drunk Joxter and a sleeping Muddler, but Iʻm in a good mood, so I donʻt mind.  _

 

_ With the war over, I await the day I get to leave all this behind and go home. Alicia told me a little bit more about you: your name is Moomin Jansson, and we were childhood best friends. I traveled a lot after I turned thirteen, but I always returned during the Spring and Summer. No matter what happened, you were always there for me, and you always waited on me. I hope you still are after all this.  _

 

_ I forgot to ask Alicia, but Joxter says he knows where home is, so Iʻll be travelling with him for now. Riiight after he gets over his hangover, which will take awhile. Iʻll see you soon, Moomin. _

 

_ Until Spring, _

_ Snufkin  _

 

_ P.S. "MoominValley"? Was your father or grandfather a founder of the place? Iʻll have to ask you when I get back. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a fit trying to find out if I should just leave the place name as "MoominValley" or change it to something stupid like "The Valley"? Then I figured: Oh well, it donʻt really matter.


	5. Letter 5: August, 1945

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intro to Alvia & Etzi! :^)

September, 1945

_ Dear Moomin, _

 

_ Before we left, Alvia stopped me.  _

 

_ Iʻve never actually explained who he is - according to him, we met on our own travels around fifteen; he left home because he was having trouble in the orphanage, and decided heʻd be better off on his own.  _

 

_ He told me once on the field that we were quite similar to each other; itʻs why we understood each other so well. I canʻt help but remember what he said out there: “Broken hearts always travel, and yearning hearts continue tradition.” If I had my memories, Iʻm sure I would have understood what that meant, but now itʻs a puzzle to me.  _

 

_ Anywho, he stopped me and Joxter before we were off, and asked for a favor. It was then that I met a little girl by the name of Etzi. Alvia told me that during his work he had helped free a transit camp, and that Etzi had been the youngest child remaining in the camp when he had been there. According to the records, her family was not put in the camps, and in fact had moved away during the war so to avoid the violence, but it seemed that Etzi had gotten separated from them and had been caught by German soldiers instead. Alvia asked me if we wouldnʻt mind her accompanying us through England, to which weʻd then help her find her family there. It wouldnʻt take long; he had already found the city and apartments they now lived in.  _

 

_ Oh Moomin, if you had been there Iʻm sure you would have started crying when you saw her. She was so skinny and frail; I could see all her bones beneath her limp skin, and the dress she wore could barely hold on. Her hair was untidy and long, but it looked to be recently washed and dried (by Alvia no doubt). And her eyes, oh her eyes... They were the most dreary Iʻve ever seen. She technically only had one eye - her left was covered by a patch that barely hid a large scar - but the one I saw was a dull brown, light barely shining within and pupils small. She looked so tired and sad... I canʻt imagine all that sheʻs been through.  _

 

_ I couldnʻt deny helping, so I agreed to take her and Alvia bid us goodbye. He told me he was most likely going to be travelling again soon, but first he should head home to clear some things up.  _

 

_ Now, Iʻm sitting in the back of a truck, Joxter drooling on my left and Etzi sleeping on my right. It surprised me that when we got on she immediately took to curling up on my side, but I suppose in the camps the children slept better together than alone (were they even allowed to sleep near each other?). When we get off I plan to stop at a diner of some sorts to make sure she eats (and that Joxter wonʻt complain over his stomach).  _

 

_ But, itʻs late, and I should be getting some sleep myself. Good night for now, my dear Moomin. _

 

_ Until Spring,  _

_ Snufkin _


	6. Letter 6: November, 1945

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the Mymble!! >o<

November, 1945 

_ Dear Moomin,  _

 

_ Weʻve been travelling through England for a while now. Despite already having the address of Etziʻs family, it seems they definitely did their best in moving away from the war. The time would have been cut much shorter if we had used a plane, but...something made me queasy when Iʻd looked at it. I denied going on it, and Joxter made arrangements for another truck (without question). I felt guilt for wasting more time than needed, but I canʻt explain the intuition I have. Alvia once jokingly told me that itʻs my nature, and I followed it all the time before my amnesia; why not follow it now? _

 

_ This isnʻt what this letter is about, however. _

 

_ I wanted to write to you about what happened in Exeter. Weʻre close to the small town where Etziʻs family lives in, but weʻve been so tired that we decided to stop here for the time being, to catch up on rest and such.  _

 

_ Etzi had just fallen asleep, so Joxter and I were going for a short walk before we knocked out as well (really, he just wanted to go for a drink). We were walking through the quiet streets of the town before Joxter slowed down to a stop. I asked him what the matter was, but he only mumbled to himself before he bolted down a side street. Slightly panicked, Iʻd followed him until he stopped rigid at a large semi-detached house a few blocks down where we were staying.  _

 

_ I tried to ask him what was wrong, before he only answered that Mymble lived here.  _

 

_ Before when the war was at its end, Joxter sat down and talked to me on all Iʻd missed after I woke up. One thing he told me was that I was one of the many sons of Mymble, the woman whom my father had fallen in love with. When I was a toddler, Mymble had lost me during an errand run, and had never seen me since. In his sorrow, Joxter left her and went for the next decade as a drunken vagabond, leaving and never staying. He was dragged into the war by General Hodgkins, who pinned him with me when I joined the war in 41, and that was how he found me again after fourteen years.  _

 

_ Standing in front of that house with him then, I felt only the slightest nostalgia on the edges of my mind. He eagerly pulled me towards the door, babbling about my mother and how nice it was going to be to see her.  _

 

_ I was terrified. And it only got worse when he knocked and I heard her shrill voice yelling profanities as she came to the door. Now, I donʻt mean to be rude, but...she almost looked like a banshee when she opened the door. Mymble was so irked by our knocking, her pupils were tiny pins and her hair was a mess. When she saw Joxter, however, she immediately slammed the door, and so we stood there waiting to see if sheʻd open it again. Fortunately, she did - much calmer this time - with a smile on her face and make-up painting her cheeks. My father cracked a joke, she laughed, and then they hugged. Joxter would kill me if he saw me writing this, but I wouldnʻt mistake his tears for anything else.  _

 

_ They stood there for some time until other children came pouring out the door, yawning and complaining about their mother yelling. She apologized and invited us in for wine, to which Joxter couldnʻt say no to, and we sat that night talking over the years and the war that had ended. From the looks of it, Mymble had barely been affected, her children being much too young to be taken out to war (and truthfully, her being much too “active” to service as a nurse). When Joxter reintroduced me, she was surprised to see me, and at first didnʻt believe him. I then laughed and told her it was fine, so long as she hadnʻt lost any of her other children while shopping for butter.  _

 

_ She cried for awhile after that.  _

 

_ I left after some time though; I couldnʻt just leave Etzi alone without protection. Joxter said heʻd stay with Mymble for the night, but I knew that he meant heʻd stay for awhile. I bidded goodbye to both my reckless parents, and went on my way.  _

 

_ Tomorrow morning, Etzi and I will be on our way on foot to the next town over, and after that off to the next. Joxter will be staying in Exeter, but I will see him when I am in MoominValley, I am sure. Wish us luck, my dearest Moomin. _

 

_ Until Spring, _

_ Snufkin  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it doesnʻt seem like Iʻm bashing on Mymble during this letter!! Iʻm not I swear, I love her very much, itʻs just that I imagine that Snufkin would slightly disapprove of her languid nature, but love her nevertheless. 
> 
> This letter is actually based on an Instagram post by @reys_humble_habod!! I thought it was really neat and wanted to add it in. Hope yʻall liked it!!


	7. Letter 7: December, 1945

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Etzi finds her family, but she doesnʻt get a happy ending with them. >:C
> 
> (From this moment on Snufkin kind of gets OOC, but Iʻd like to say itʻs because of his amnesia.)

December, 1945

_ Dear Moomin, _

 

_ I am livid. I do not think I have ever been this mad before, even when I had no memory loss.  _

 

_ Weʻd found them - Etziʻs family. She had been so excited: her eyes were bright, her smile more real, and her dress finally fitting right than it had when Iʻd first met her. She was well and she was happy, and she was finally going to be with her family again.  _

 

_ But then they opened up the door and looked at her and - they did not look happy. In fact, they looked appalled. As if seeing her brought the war right to their doorstep.  _

 

_ Even the neighbors who had come out for fresh air looked at her strangely (later on she told me that they were her old neighbors; apparently the people sheʻd lived with were rich and had all decided to move and use their money to get out of Germany before it got too hectic).  _

 

_ They asked her how she had survived, and she told them the truth: sheʻd been placed in labor first and stayed there for a very long time under a German businessman, but was moved into a transit camp in 44. She was almost sent to a killing center, but was saved when her camp was liberated by the French military, where she met Alvia.  _

 

_ Even after the story, they were hesitant to let her in, and I could see on Etziʻs face that she started to realize they may not want her there.  _

 

_ She asked them then why they never sent her letters during the first year, or tried to look for her when she was in labor, and a sibling of hers piped up behind her parents that she wasnʻt supposed to come back. That theyʻd given her up for a reason. The truth was then revealed when her mother saw they couldnʻt back away from this.  _

 

_ Etziʻs family had been one of the last in their neighborhood to leave Germany during the war. Frightened that they would be sent to the camps, they paid a German soldier to let them go without any consequences, but he told them that he needed someone to bring to the camps. In the end, they decided to leave Etzi behind and move without her. The soldier than found her, took her along with another couple of prisoners, and sent her to labor where she worked and waited for her family.  _

 

_ They never thought sheʻd make it. They didnʻt  _ care  _ if sheʻd make it.  _

 

_ Thatʻs what they told her as they closed the door, wishing us the best of luck on our travels before shutting her out for good. Etzi stood for a long time on their front mat, staring at the pine wood with a wide eye and a shattered heart. I gently pulled her along and away from that place, and now we are resting under a tree, her weeping turned to small hiccups as I write.  _ _ Who could do this? To their own child, their own family? I canʻt even imagine the pain that Etzi is feeling; she has already gone through so much, and yet now she doesnʻt even have a home to return to. A small pang hits my heart at that thought.  _

 

_ My only reassurance is that she has me, and I can take her with me to MoominValley, where you are. There, she will be loved and treated kindly, and piece by piece weʻll fix her heart together. Oh Moomin, the world can be such an unsightly place sometimes. I can only hope that despite that, your heart is still as good as Iʻve been told it was.  _

 

_ Until Spring, _

_ Snufkin  _

 

_ P.S. Did I ever consider MoominValley my home when I lived there with you? I hope I did; the thought of not having a home now seems unbearable. _


	8. Letter 8: January, 1946

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin tells unfortunate news. }:|

January, 1946

_ Dear Moomin,  _

 

_ I donʻt think Iʻll be coming home for awhile. Etzi isnʻt in a good condition, and Iʻve gotten word from Alvia that something unfortunate happened on his return to France. Heʻll be joining us in Torquay soon.  _

 

_ Iʻm so sorry, Moomin. Iʻm sure you know  by now that the war is over, and you and the others are waiting for me to come home. At least, I hope that is what youʻre doing. I want to come home, but now is not a good time. Iʻll think of you every day until I return.  _

 

_ Until Spring, _

_ Snufkin _

 

_ P.S. I wonder why I think of you so much? _


	9. Letter 9: January, 1946

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alvia spills the beans for Snufkin on their past. >:3

January, 1946

_ Dear Moomin, _

 

_ Alvia met up with us a few days ago. It was good to see his face again after what felt like so long; his eyes are still as green as ever.  _

 

_ Yesterday, I learned a bit more on my past with him, after he had settled down with a solemn face.  _

 

_ When he was young, he was left at an orphanage by his parents who gave no name, only a large sum of money for him to inherit. The orphanage used some of the money, but because of the status of his parents, he was kept away from the other children and treated like a little prince. In his youth, he took care of a small garden in the orphanage, and looked after their prized sheep, but despite that, he was lonely.  _

 

_ When he was twelve, the first person he met outside the caretakers had been Fiore: a young spritely boy whose family had also left him at the orphanage. Fiore had been charming and silly when theyʻd met, and Alvia couldnʻt help but want to see him again. And so he did.  _

 

_ Days and months passed as they spent more time together, Alvia treating Fiore to all that he could get from the caretakers with his money. At some point, he even met Fioreʻs bunk mates: a small group of strange children, kind in their own way. Soon, they all began to spend time together, but no one meant as much to him as Fiore did.  _

 

_ After a terrible event where Fiore fell again to a recurring illness, however, Alvia came to realize that he was being used for his care and money. Feeling sick of himself, he decided to leave the orphanage, but not before telling Fiore, who apologized for his behavior and wished him luck upon leaving.  _

 

_ So Alvia went, travelling through the fall and coming to America during the beginning of winter. During a walk through the woods, he had gotten lost on a trail, and would have most likely suffered from the cold if he hadnʻt met me that day. Soon after that, we became friends, and stayed in touch since then. He continued to travel often, going back to his hometown in the spring and staying until fall. Every once in awhile, weʻd meet to travel together (whether coincidence or not), and weʻd separate at the end of winter. It sounds like we had good times together, Alvia and I. _

 

_ When the war started, he immediately joined, if not to protect Fiore (theyʻre relationship had smoothed over after a year or so) than to simply fight. We met again  when I joined, and fought alongside each other then and there, but for the most part he was always in the air. Heʻs the reason I am uncomfortable with planes; in 42, he was flying when someone had shot his engine out, and he had crashed. Alvia was never terribly injured, but he frightened me nonetheless.  He told me I worked a lot harder after that, trying to ensure that I would not lose anyone in the war. Apparently, I forgot to not lose myself in the process. _

 

_ Itʻs not so bad, I suppose. Alvia and the others have told me multiple times that I still have the same habits and reactions as I did before, so my amnesia doesnʻt seem to have changed me much. If I am still me, and the others are still them, what would stop us from still being us, and creating new memories?  _

 

_ I end this day informed and content. Iʻll write again soon, my dearest Moomin.  _

 

_ Until Spring, _

_ Snufkin  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I donʻt really explain it, but Alvia is basically my Little Prince character. Itʻs kind of based off an Instagram post I saw where the artist drew Snufkin and the Little Prince standing on two different sides of a ravine, and I imagined them as good friends.


	10. Letter 10: May, 1946

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin does his own character study. <3

May, 1946

_ Dear Moomin,  _

 

_ I havenʻt written in awhile, though I suppose there hasnʻt been much to write as of recently.  _

 

_ Etzi is looking better. Each day passing her eye grows bright once more, and sheʻs more comfortable with not wearing the patch over her left as she did before. She told me once that she got it from a cruel soldier, who decided to slice her eye when she wouldnʻt stop crying. Etzi used to be ashamed about it, but now sheʻs more accustomed to not seeing from her left. She also cut her hair short; it was becoming a hassle for her to take care of and she decided she wanted to be a new person after her family rejected her. She is doing much better now.  _

 

_ Alvia is the same as always, fretting over others and how to take care of us. Truthfully, heʻs a very good family figure; Iʻd dare even say heʻs family to me. Fortunately, however, since weʻve had so much time on this trip, heʻs been able to tell me more stories of before.  _

 

_ Turns out, I never considered MoominValley home, or I did but I denied it. I loved the valley, and I loved you, and yet I wouldnʻt let myself settle. Alvia thinks itʻs because I felt like an outsider everywhere I went, so I was unused to the affection I was given in MoominValley and felt I didnʻt deserve it and ran away. Apparently after being separated from Mymble when I was four, I went around aimlessly in England until a family took me to America, where I one day found MoominValley when I was nine. I mustʻve gotten used to being alone at that time, because the me that Alvia grew up with wasnʻt used to physical affection, and didnʻt laugh or smile as much as I do now.  _

 

_ Weʻre still out travelling - weʻre in Cape North now - but I wish to see you. I wish to apologize; Iʻm not certain on whether or not I was good company to you, but I want you to know you were to me. Iʻm not afraid of the idea of loving you, despite not remembering who you are, and I know that caring for you in such a way may be seen as bad or even sinful by others. I donʻt care for them though, what matters to me is what you believe, and what you want of me; it always has.  _

 

_ At dinner, Iʻll ask the others if we can start making our way to MoominValley. Alvia knows the way home, so Iʻll rely on him taking us back to you. I hope you may still be waiting for me, my dove.  _

 

_ Until Spring,  _

_ Snufkin  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I donʻt think Snufkin would have a hard time with his sexuality, or finding out heʻs in love with Moomin. I know a lot of stories like to build that angst where heʻs in denial of himself and it causes chaos, but I think Snufkinʻs a smart lad. 
> 
> Heʻd realize that pushing Moomin away would hurt the both of them, and in the end accept his feelings and go on like the world intended it to be. Snufkin would have that horrible ability to hide his feelings and keep it in for variously long amounts of time, and thatʻs the tea Iʻm going to be drinking for this story. *sip*


	11. Letter 11: January, 1947

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin will return in time for Spring. 0w0

January, 1947

_ Dear Moomin, _

 

_ Weʻve still been travelling for some time, but Alvia says weʻre not so far from MoominValley now. Driving and walking wise, it will take us two months, just in time for Spring! Iʻm excited to see you again, as well as everyone else. Alvia told me I had two sisters living in MoominValley, both older and yet completely different to one another, but still good nonetheless. It irks me a bit that I still technically donʻt know what you look like, nor do I know what your parents or my siblings look like either. During the war, Alicia said I had only one picture, one that I wouldnʻt show to anyone (though apparently Joxter stole it from me once when I was sleeping), but it was lost the day I was terribly injured and got amnesia, so Iʻve never been able to see it again.  _

 

_ No matter, Iʻm certain I will know it is you when I see you. What will you say to me when you look at me again for the first time in a long time? I hope something kind; Iʻm coming home.  _

 

_ Until Spring, _

_ Snufkin _


	12. Letter 12: March, 1947

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heʻs home.

March, 1947

_ Dear Moomin, _

 

_ You didnʻt say much. In fact, I donʻt believe you said anything at all. _

 

_ It was your voice that I heard first. Youʻd been calling for Little My at the river, standing near the bridge and checking your mail for your parents. You had a smile on your face and freckles lining your cheeks; I couldnʻt help but hold my breath at the sight of you. Alvia and Etzi werenʻt with me at the time, I had asked to find you alone, and they had obliged, going off to wander around the small town.  _

_ When I had called out, it had been uncertain and rather quiet; I didnʻt think you would hear me, but you did. You wouldnʻt turn my way for a few seconds, as if you were too scared to see me. At some point you did though, and your eyes were so blue and bright, I almost tripped over my own feet. The moment was broken when Little My came running over, screaming my name at the top of her lungs. That seemed to alert others in the area, and I was suddenly swamped by multiple people. I could only recognize a few from instinct.  _

 

_ After Mama and Papa calmed them down, they brought me into the kitchen and Mama made me a cup of tea, excitedly chatting away on how happy she was to have me back in MoominValley, how it was never the same without me. I laughed awkwardly, telling her I was also happy to be back, having worried how Iʻd be received for not returning immediately after the war. Papa, who was sitting nearby after sitting you down in the kitchen, asked why. I laughed again, and told them exactly as Iʻd written to you here in this journal. They laughed along as well when I told them of Joxter and his whereabouts, and showed sympathy and anger towards Etzi and her family. The most difficult part however, was when Mama asked me why I had waited for Alvia to bring me home when I could have come home myself. I feel like Mama is too wise for her own good; she mustʻve picked up in my stories that I didnʻt know where I had been going.  _

 

_ Nonetheless, I told the truth: I had amnesia from a bombing incident in 1944, and when the war ended, had tried to make my way back home, despite not remembering where it was. They were speechless afterwards. Papa almost dropped his cup of tea, and Mama had stopped moving about the kitchen to look at me carefully. But you, my dearest Moomin, you broke my heart completely when I finally found the courage to look up at you. _

 

_ Your eyes - as blue and as lovely as they could ever be - were wide and shiny, looking at me as if Iʻd ripped you entire world to pieces. If I looked any closer, I could see the sea in them, churning and changing from the storm within. I never thought I would see a face so sad again after the war, but I suppose I shouldnʻt have been so hopeful. Youʻd open your mouth then, but nothing came out.  _

 

_ After the shock, Mama had ushered me to bed, saying I must be tired (I was, actually; we didnʻt take a rest the last day before arriving, too excited to finally be here), but I wanted to write before going to sleep. Somehow, it is easier to write to you here rather than face you again. I canʻt explain how much I want to make up all our lost time to you, or to apologize for being so reckless that I forgot all the memories we had. You looked so broken, and I wish my presence wouldnʻt make you look so sad.  _

 

_ Iʻm going to bed now. I hope you have a good night, and Iʻll see you in the morning. _

 

_ Until Tomorrow, _

_ Snufkin _


	13. Letter 13: March, 1947

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin and Little My Time -__-

March, 1947

_ Dear Moomin, _

 

_ Today I spent the day with Little My. Itʻs been a week or so since I came back; everyone has kept a safe distance from me after figuring out about my amnesia, but it looks like my sister couldnʻt handle the stale air around me. She stomped over to the campsite Alvia, Etzi, and I were sharing, and demanded that I follow her. I was going to ask her what was going on but she ran off towards the river before I could, so I told Alvia off and went along.  _

 

_ It was a silent walk for the most part, just us two near the riverside. For a moment, all I did was look around in awe. It had only been a scratch in the back of my mind, but now that I was here in the valley, I wished more than ever that my memories could return to me in that instant. It was so beautiful here, I wonder what grand memories we held in our childhoods. The ache in my heart grows the more I think about it.  _

 

_ Little My takes me out of my mind when she roughly pulls me to sit down next to her, and I find we are sitting at a larger part of the river that is closer to the mountains, water blue and clear. To our side there were two fishing poles and a bucket, and I realized what she wanted to do. I called out to her, and she told me I promised to teach her how to fish one day, because she would complain whenever we spent fishing together in our youth. I laughed after that; it sounded like something we would do. So, I spent the day fishing with Little My. She got angry often at the beginning, being unable to tie the hook on properly or throwing the line out, but with patience and time she learned, and we were able to catch a rather large trout in the end. She was so proud, she did a little dance while it flopped in her hands, and I laughed again when the fish tail smacked me in the face and got water on my shirt.  _

 

_ I hope youʻre eating that for dinner right now; Little My offered to give me half, but I told her to take it home for Mama to make. She knit her eyebrows at this, but didnʻt argue any further and walked off to Moomin House. All the way back, she hummed a song under her breath that sounded familiar.  _

 

_ Until Tomorrow, _

_ Snufkin _


	14. Letter 14: April, 1947

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniff & Snorkmaiden appear, but not everythingʻs rainbows without a little bit of rain.

April, 1947

_ Dear Moomin,  _

 

_ Today was a tough one, if I had to say so.  _

 

_ Apparently, all the hush behavior and watching me from a distance wasnʻt something our dear friends could handle. We were all sitting out on the patio of the Moomin House - Mama had invited me to eat some pancakes this morning and I couldnʻt resist - when we heard a commotion from down the river. Turning my head, I found it to be Sniff and Snorkmaiden running along the bank, the latter trying to calm down the former to no avail. When they got to the House, Sniff pointed at me accusingly and started shouting at me. I was so shocked by his arrival, I didnʻt understand what he was saying at first, but then it hit me all at once: he was angry at me for going off to war. The more I listened, the more my heart ached. I didnʻt even realize the rest of you getting up to try and calm him down, your arm wrapped around me in reassurance.  _

 

_ His words keep on echoing in my head, even now, while I sit hiding in some unnamed part of the forest, tears still fresh. “How could you just leave us, do you know how much pain you caused Moomin?” “Was it fun killing people out there?” “You went and got amnesia so you wouldnʻt have to deal with your problems!” The anger on his face made the whole situation worse; I ran before anything else could be said. _

 

_ I had no idea of all the trouble Iʻd caused by leaving MoominValley to go to war. I donʻt remember what I did or what I may have said when I left all those years ago, but now I fear I may have done something terribly foolish. And now, six years later, I show up only to haunt our friends and family.  _

 

_ Oh Moomin, I am so sorry for everything. I thought my return home would be a kind one, but all that I brought was tension and pain. Maybe it would be better if I just left, and this time never return. Yes, Iʻll find Alvia and Etzi in the morning and tell them we must prepare to leave. It might be a little sad to go, but at least Iʻll know I wonʻt hurt you anymore. Maybe in another life, Iʻll be kinder to you.  _

 

_ Goodbye, _

_ Snufkin  _


	15. Letter 15: April, 1947

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin is found.

April, 1947

_ Dear Moomin,  _

 

_ Well...I didnʻt leave. After writing the previous letter, I fell asleep under the tangled roots of a large tree. I thought I would sleep peacefully that night, but your distant calling woke me up. At first, I was afraid to crawl out of the little space for fear that you would yell at me, but then I heard you cry out. I peaked out then, worried youʻd gotten yourself hurt by tripping over a root of some sort, but when I saw you, I found it was something much more serious. _

 

_ You hadnʻt tripped at all, but had sat down instead, knees drawn up to your chest and shoulders hunched. There were large, pearly tears rolling endlessly down your face, and you choked on your sobs as they left your lips, which were red from exhaustion and nervous biting. I know  itʻs rather unfair to say, but you were lovely sitting there in the middle of the forest, your blonde hair almost shone white by the moonlight filtering in through the canopy, and your cheeks rosy from running. I almost didnʻt say a thing from my hiding space - too busy admiring your features - but then you began to speak to yourself as if I were there to listen (which I was, but you hadnʻt known that at the time).  _

 

_ Oh Moomin, the things you said still make me feel goosebumps, even as I write this and go over the day. Through your tears, you had called out to me and asked for forgiveness, apologizing for your awkwardness at my return and surprise memory loss. It had been so long since weʻd seen each other, youʻd lost hope that Iʻd ever come back to the valley, and when I had, I did not know who you were; it broke your heart when I looked at you with such uncertainty after all this time. For that, you couldnʻt bare to see me look that way again, and so you avoided spending time with me, busying yourself with Sniff or Snorkmaiden, lamenting all that we had together. After awhile, Sniff got upset on your behalf, and confronted me. When I had run away, you were livid at him, but ran after me in the end along with Alvia, Etzi, and Little My.  _

 

_ You apologized once more and called out to me again, wishing to find me soon so that we could begin to mend the broken pieces. You pledged to tell me everything my heart desired to know, and youʻd take me on adventures through MoominValley to the places weʻve been to, and youʻd show me all that I missed until I could remember them again. And even if my memory never resurfaced, youʻd love me as the same Snufkin before, as youʻre best friend.  _

 

_ My heart swelled so much at your declarations, tears spilled from my own eyes as well, and I stepped out of the roots and made my way to you, where you had resumed your quiet sobbing. You were frightened when I had pat your shoulder, but immediately brought me into an embrace when you recognized me. I donʻt think Iʻve ever felt as warm as I did tonight; I donʻt think Iʻll  ever  feel as warm again. _

 

_ We walked hand-in-hand all the way back to your house, where the others sat about in worry. As soon as they saw us, they swarmed and asked all kind of questions, Little My pulling at my jacket and Snorkmaiden patting my cheeks. Their pampering was rather uncomfortable, but before I could ask them to stop, Mama shooed them away for me, bringing us into the kitchen where a warm pot of tea sat. She told me that Sniff had left to go home some time ago, but when he returns heʻd apologize rightly to me. I was flattered, but told her I understood his grief, and that I needed no apology from him. You, however - still by my side and still holding my hand - disagreed, and said that as a friend Sniff should have never crossed the line the way he did, your lovely blue eyes shining with conviction and a soft tenderness as you looked me over for any bruises. I was completely fine, but the gesture was still nice. After that, Mama gave me some tea, and we all sat in the kitchen silently, listening only to the sounds of the river outside and the creatures of the night. I finished a cup of tea and was going to retire outside, but you and Mama wouldnʻt allow that for tonight, and now I am finishing up this letter in Papaʻs small study, where once this is done I will go back up to your room.  _

 

_ Truth be told I am nervous, despite the fact that you said weʻve had many sleepovers before in our youth. I wonder if this is what the past me felt everytime you insisted on spending a night together? Oh Dearest Moomin, if the war didnʻt kill me, you definitely will.  _

 

_ Love,  _

_ Snufkin  _


	16. Letter 16: August, 1947

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin falls even more in love with Moomin.

August, 1947 

_ Dear Moomin,  _

 

_ Time has passed. Things have gotten better. Iʻve spent a lot of my days with you since the whole Running-Away Incident. It was as you said: Sniff came over the next day, apologized to me, and all was right again. No one seemed to worry about putting distance between us after that, and I was overwhelmed by people every other day, some only bringing gifts, some coming to chat, or some wanting to spend a day with me despite my amnesia; throughout it all, you always made it bearable and made sure I was still given space or time alone.  _

 

_ Truly, I canʻt fall in love with you more, can I?  _

 

_ Everyday was a sort of bliss with you, and keeping true to your word, we went on little adventures all around the town, where you showed me the things we did before or the things you and I used to like. I especially loved the trek up Lonely Mountain and the afternoons spent at the beach; you looked absolutely dashing with the sun painting you different colors and your hair being tossed by the wind. It made you look more natural and lovely. Your laughter was also a highlight on these many trips; it always lit your entire face up, and the edges of those blue eyes would crinkle along with your smile. Safe to say, this summer has been spent with me ogling at you way too often for anyoneʻs comfort. Little My likes to tease me about it, but I suppose Iʻve never been too good at rangling my emotions when it comes to you, or maybe itʻs because sheʻs my sister.  _

 

_ There is one day, however, that I simply canʻt forget of, even if itʻs been some time since itʻs happened. It was actually a rather simple day: we’d wandered through tall forest trees, picked flowers in a meadow and weaved flower crowns for one another. I remember that I specifically made the crown with blue fressia’s, yellow zinnia’s, and white camellia’s that grew clustered together on one side of the field; I’m not certain if the meanings reached you, but you still turned pink when I placed them on your head. In return, you placed a crown with yellow calla lilies, purple irises, and pink bouvardia’s atop my own. The air smelled sweet around us for the rest of the day as we wore them.  _

 

_ When the sun began to set, we left the flowers behind and ventured back home, where you once more - like many of the other days spent together - invited me to eat dinner inside. I was going to decline, but as we came upon the tents pitched up for Alvia & Etzi, I found no one there, but their laughter drifted down from the hill and in the house, and I could not turn you down. So, we went together across the bridge and to the lovely scent of stew that drafted from the kitchen window.  _

 

_ Suffice to say, dinner was delicious that night. Despite the large table that harbored everyone, I sat on the edge of the countertop eating instead of with the group, feeling comfortable with the slight wind coming through the window. Mama nor Papa seemed to mind; according to you, I ate to the side very often, but close enough to still speak with everyone. So, that’s what I did, eating and enjoying the stories and the remarks, the chastising and snickering. It all felt very...at home. But dinner ended eventually, and after helping with the dishes, I was about to head out with Alvia & Etzi until you stopped me, gently cradling my hand and making me hold my breathe.  _

 

_ Holding my hands, you looked down at me with those lovely blue eyes and asked me to stay, just for tonight, and that you’d wanted to show me something later on when we were alone. I was no doubt nervous by your invitation, but spending more time with you was something I couldn’t deny myself, so I accepted. You absolutely beamed, turning to tell Mama & Papa, while I turned to bid Alvia & Etzi goodbye. They giggled and said the same, Alvia with a smirk before stepping out the door. I was about to berate him despite him already being gone, but you pulled on our still conjoined hands and led me upstairs. There, we took our showers and settled down for the night, you promising to take me to the place you wanted to show me after some time passed.  _

 

_ So we talked: I told you about the valley of moose I passed through with Alvia & Etzi, about all the music we heard and played on our travels, and Etzi’s reaction to eating jell-o for the first time. I was certain that I must’ve told you stories like these before, but you looked so enraptured, so focused on me and nothing else, I can still feel the heat rising to my cheeks.  _

 

_ Likewise however, you caught me up on the gossip of the town, speaking about my other sister, Mymble Jr., and her job at the local police station, about Mr. Hemulen and the multiple new stamps he gained last week, or about Snorkmaiden and the blooming relationship between her and Little My without their knowing. It was then that I asked if you were comfortable with people loving those of their own gender, and you had smiled like it was just a regular question, and answered, “Love is love, Snufkin. Why would I ever doubt it?”  _

 

_ I hope I may never get amnesia again, because I never want to forget those words.  _

 

_ After another hour or so of talking, you deemed it time to leave your room, and opened your window to drop the ladder. I followed you obediently, and soon enough we were at the beachside, the moon reflecting smaller crescents on the dark water, the soft sound of the shoreline breaking on the sand. We stopped for a few minutes to take in the view before you’re excitement got the best of you again, and you reached out for my hand to pull me along the shore. I laughed, you giggled, and we went along as if everything was right with the world.  _

 

_ Soon enough, you lead us to a cave entrance, one that I hadn’t seen on our explorations at the beach before, but I suppose we knew of when we were younger, because you bolted in without hesitation. Once inside, I realized I could still hear the sounds of the ocean within the cave, and you called for me further  in. I listened, and walked to find an open space larger than expected, a secret beach hidden within the cavern walls. Above, a bit of the earth had fallen through, letting moonlight filter between tree roots to illuminate the enclosure and dance on the small tides of the hidden waves. It was stunning, and familiar, and our own little oasis where no one but us could find it.  _

 

_ You had already jumped in by the time I had reached the water and finished staring in awe, and you waved to join me when I turned to you in the water. Iʻd laughed, but did as you said, taking off my outer layers and going in only my trousers. We swam in the cavern, laughing and splashing, enjoying the time together as all good friends must.  _

 

_ But my heart yearns for you in many more ways, my dear Moomin. You looked absolutely lovely that night when we swam, broad muscles doused in shimmering moonlight caught by the water, laughter rumbling from your chest and into the open space of the cave, eyes blue and shining as they gazed at me. It was like dancing with a siren, except I had been drowning in utter adoration rather than the actual sea. _

 

_ When we had tired ourselves out, we fell over on the shore, the water lapping at our toes as we laid side by side and stared at the ceiling. As we did so, you giggled and poked my side, catching my attention as I tried to wiggle away on the cold sand. When I looked up at you, you were sitting up with a necklace hanging from your arm, brown leather tied together with a knobby seashell star dangling from the bottom. You beckoned me closer to bring the necklace over my head and told me that whenever you missed me, youʻd come visit the ocean at night to listen to the waves and look at the stars. From a young age, the ocean and night sky always meant a lot to me because they were the few things in my life that was all-encompassing and a constant in the world; Iʻd told you that when we had first met and I had cried thinking the ocean had dried up. Ever since, the two things reminded you of me, and you constantly visited the sea during the war. At some point, you found the shells on the shoreline, and decided youʻd give one to me when I came back, Mama helping you turn them into necklaces so that we could carry them wherever we go. I hadnʻt realized it before, but you had already been wearing the other piece for a very long time, possibly before I even returned.  _

 

_ I couldnʻt help but start to cry then, your obvious show of love and compassion breaking my walls down and making me vulnerable. Words could not truly explain all that I felt in that moment, but for a split second, I wondered what itʻd be like if I had kissed you then.  _

 

_ Soon enough, we headed back to the house and took a quiet shower, than silently slipped into your room to rest for another day. Time has passed since that fateful night, and weʻve gone along many more adventures, but the memories of  secret beach still paint the darkness whenever I close my eyes.  _

 

_ Moomin, if I could ever tell you how I feel, thereʻd never be any right way to put it. I love you, Moomin Jansson. Even if the world ends or if you find it in your heart that you canʻt love me back. Even if it breaks me like glass and there comes a time where I leave you (or you leave me). No matter what, even as the world changes before our eyes, I know that amongst the endless stars and the spiralling waves, there is one other thing that is certain: I love you.  _

 

_ Love, _

_ Snufkin  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freesia - friendship, trust, thoughtfulness, usually used at weddings or anniversaries  
> Zinnia - affection, constancy, remembrance   
> Camellia - love, adoration, affection, usually given to someone meaningful to you 
> 
> Calla Lily - joy, continuous growth, and change   
> Iris - faith, hope, wisdom, courage   
> Bouvardia - enthusiasm


	17. Letter 17: August, 1947

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone says good-bye.

August, 1947 

_ Dear Moomin, _

 

_ Alvia has left. He said it was time he headed back to make amends with Fiore, and he missed his garden on the roof. I was thankful for his time here, and was glad we could spend another Spring together - the last time weʻd been together in Spring was when we first met and he had been horribly injured.  _

 

_ He packed up his things, played a last farewell song with me, hugged Etzi, and was on his way. Etzi had cried a little, but we both reassured her that weʻd see each other again. It was a surprisingly small world, after all.  _

 

_ Iʻve seen it in Etziʻs eyes too; she wants to go. I think she plans to leave soon, but she has yet to say anything to me, and I know sheʻll want to talk to me before she heads off. I am happy for her and her maturity, but I must admit, apart of me aches at the thought of her going. Goodbyes are always the most difficult part, but how lucky am I to have something that makes a goodbye so hard? I will miss her, but I know that I will see her again. Alvia too. Just as I always see you, my Dearest Moomin.  _

 

_ Love,  _

_ Snufkin  _


	18. Letter 18: September, 1947

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin is faced with a difficult question.
> 
> (PLEASE READ END NOTES)

September, 1947

_ Dear Moomin,  _

 

_ Joxter returned to MoominValley, like he promised all those months ago. We threw a small party to welcome him, Mamma making fresh cherry pies for the occasion. I was very happy to see him again.  _

 

_ For a moment after the celebration, I had the time to sit down with him on the bridge. I still donʻt have any memories of MoominValley, but the feeling of watching the river stream flow underneath my dangling feet made me content, and I sat smiling gently as my father played strange tunes on his guitar. We stayed that way for a moment until he turned to ask me a question.  _

 

_ “What will you do in the winter?”  _

 

_ I looked at him strangely, but I suppose I couldnʻt deny the question. Before the war, I travelled in the winter. Would I continue to do so? Or would I decide to stay, for the first time in years, in MoominValley with you? A piece of me yearned to keep still, to stay, but a deeper subconscious told me to leave. Why?  _

 

_ I couldnʻt answer Joxter right then, but he understood the difficulty of the question, and so shrugged it off with a silly story about fishes in a murky stream. We spent another hour or so doing nothing on that bridge until Pappa called us back to the house, and we scampered back, Joxterʻs laughter in my ears and the wind blowing leaves over the trail. You welcomed me like you always do when I return, and I smiled at you, but my brain and heart was still muddled by the earlier conversation.  _

 

_ What should I do, my dearest Moomin? I donʻt want this summer to end.  _

 

_ Love,  _

_ Snufkin  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo!!!! Okay, so this is really important. I have a couple of ideas of which way the story is going to go from this chapter, but thereʻs two paths and I could take either or. 
> 
> So!! I ask you guys how you want to see this end: 
> 
> Should Snufkin stay or leave?? 
> 
> Please answer in the comments, and Iʻll give it a week or so! Thanks you guys!


	19. Letter 19: October, 1947

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin & Moomin meet Groke.

October, 1947 

_Dear Moomin,_

 

 _Etzi left just a week ago. She had received a letter then from one of her brothers, the one she was closest to, who apologized on their families behalf and invited her to come live with him on the sailboat he had just purchased a month before. At first, I had been wary of the letter, but Etzi recognized the handwriting, and despite her pain, wanted to see her brother again. I asked if she wanted me to come along with her to meet him, but she declined, wanting to figure out the journey for herself; something struck me when she said that._   


_We held a small farewell dinner for her at your house, and I watched her walk down the path out of MoominValley at sunrise, the sound of her soft singing fading away slowly. Another soul to see again at another time, I suppose._

 

_But I also wanted to write to you about today. I thought it was going to be the usual as it had been in recent months, however you contradicted me this morning when you asked if we could go for a walk through the Valley. You know I could never say no to you, and so we went, saying hello to everyone we saw and laughing under the sun’s rays. It was getting colder, so we walked closer together than we usually did, shoulders bumping occasionally and spreading warmth through my body._

 

_At some point, we stopped, hungry and embarrassed that we forgot to pack food for ourselves before leaving the house. You turned to me and said to wait right where we were, that you planned to take a quick jog to SnorkMaiden’s house to ask for some biscuits and return to me. I thought we could have just gone together and stay at her house for the rest of the day, but a part of me only wanted to stay with you, so I agreed and waited._

 

_You took long however, so long that I began to doze off and get lost in the sound of the nature around me. The trees were changing color, some leaves already falling, but you could still hear the birds chirping and small animals scampering on the ground. As I listened, my ears caught something unusual: faint crying. For a minute, I contemplated going to see what the noise was or if I should wait for you, but as the crying continued, I decided on the former and went through the brush._

 

_This part of the forest we had been through many times on our summer excursions, but it had always been a much darker, damper area. You said it was a good place to play hide-and-seek, that we used to play it all the time and follow the creek through here back home, and I could feel the faint joy of the memories at the edges of my brain. But there was no time for that now; I had to find out who was crying._

 

_It took some time, the sounds always changing between the canopy of the trees, but I found it after a few minutes of searching. It was a girl, one with dark skin and dark hair, but the most piercing eyes I had ever seen. She was barely covered in dirty clothes, and she was thin, but her long hair was so thick it covered a majority of her. The poor girl was sobbing quietly, and one look at her reminded me of a survivor I lost on the field, her eyes sad and empty just like those lost in the rubble. Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like I was out on the field again searching for survivors with the fear of bombs looming over us. My  world was spinning and the sounds of the forest deafening, and it was cold, too cold._

 

_I couldn’t stand to stay there shivering as I watched the girl cry, so I ran. It’s cowardly, I know, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do, caught up in the feeling that I was being chased with enemy guns on my back. By the time I got back out of the brush, you were there, confusedly looking for where I went. I scared you when I showed up, but your fear was immediately replaced by concern when you saw the shocked look on my face and my shallow breathing. I immediately went to you for a hug, surprising you, but you held on just as tightly and whispered reassurances in my ear until I calmed down. When I did, I told you what happened, and you exclaimed in worry that we should go back to check on the poor girl. Reluctantly, I agreed, and you led the way with our hands wound tightly together._

 

_She was still in the same place from when I found her, tucked away near the roots of a tree. I hesitated again, but you, oh Brave Moomin, went straight up to ask if she was alright, if she needed food or clothes, anything. She was surprised by your sudden appearance, but didn’t push you away, instead just staring as you continued to ask her questions. Finally, she nodded her head when you asked if she wanted to warm up. You helped her as she stood up, noting how cold she felt, and walk her all the way back home. By that time, the dark had already settled upon us, and Mama waited out on the porch saying that supper was ready._

 

_The girl stayed quiet for the most part, huddled in three blankets and eating a warm bowl of soup. The only words I remember her saying was that her name was Groke, and then she went back to sipping the honey lemon tea Mama made for her. Afterwards, you offered her more food and blankets, but all she requested was a lantern to take with her for the night. Mama advised against her leaving, but Groke was adamant, and so she left us then with a single wool blanket wrapped around her shoulders and my old green lamp rocking in her hands. She was a strange one, and if I was to be honest, I felt relieved that she was gone; there was something in her eyes that I understood, but didn’t want to see._

 

_Now, I am at Papa’s desk, finishing up this letter before I head up to your room for another night. I still have chills on my spine, Moomin. I don’t know why, but Groke’s appearance tugs at me. It’s a reminder of sorts, like the feeling of waking up to the first inch of snow._

 

_Winter is coming soon, Moomin. She will come and take a little light with her on her ways, leaving us in a confused daze. I don’t think I want that._

 

_Love,_

_Snufkin_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for waiting so long!! Not a lot of people commented so I had a difficult time working through what to write, and plus school started weighing down and I've just been a mess. But this chapter was kind of long, so I hope you guys liked it!! 
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	20. Letter 20: November, 1947

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin decides he needs to talk.

 

November, 1947

_ Dear Moomin,  _

 

_ I went outside tonight, while you were sleeping. Since the others left, you asked for me to stay in your room with you, worried Iʻd become too lonely out there in my small tent. I donʻt mind it - during the war, it was easier and better to sleep in pairs or more, but tonight the stream called to me, the stars twinkling with unknown secrets. I stood out there for a very long time.  _

 

_ I keep on thinking of the ocean, of the whispers in the trees and the way the moon glows above me. I also think about the war, about what was before it and what I became afterward. I still can’t remember who I was, but I do know this: I could not afford comfortability. Or maybe it was that I never wanted it. Why? _

 

_ Oh Moomin, a piece of me wants to stay here in this quiet town with you forever, but the rest of me knows that I need to go. My restless soul can not find peace in the friendly faces and old buildings, not like you can. My mind is jumbled and swirling with words and conversations in passing, and I think of what Joxter asked of me on the bridge that one peaceful day, or what Alvia has whispered aloud in our late-night conversations. I need someone to talk to about this, but it can’t be you. Already, I know your answer, and I think it’d break my heart to see your eyes when I tell you what’s on my mind.  _

 

_ Tomorrow, I’ve decided, I’ll go out and seek advice from someone on this. Tomorrow, I’ll make my decision. Please, do not be angry with me, my Dearest Moomin.  _

 

_ My heart is broken and yearning, whisking itself away time and time again on an endless trail, towards you, away from you, always for you.  _

 

_ Love,  _

_ Snufkin  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahaha, I'm so sorry?? For some reason, this letter was really difficult to write, and so I got major writer's block for months, then I just couldn't get back into the Moomin Fandom?? How long has it been since I've updated?? 
> 
> I apologize, really, but the story is almost done!! Most likely it's only going to be 3 more chapters left, and I'm excited to write them out! I swear on our lives, I'll update them in the next few months instead of almost waiting an entire year. 
> 
> Hope everyone reading this is doing okay!! Thank you for reading and I love you all!!


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